


A Family Matter

by MoiraiThanatoio



Category: Dresden Files - Jim Butcher, Thor (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Gen, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-22
Updated: 2012-01-22
Packaged: 2017-10-29 22:55:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/325092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoiraiThanatoio/pseuds/MoiraiThanatoio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chaos followed Harry Dresden around like a lost puppy looking for a home... This wasn't entirely his fault, even if he didn't know it.  (And, seriously, anything would have been a better resolution to the 'official' character death and resurection.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Family Matter

His current office was in a Gold Coast tower, high enough up that the safest exit in an emergency would be a base jump out the open window. How that window had been opened was up to circumstance, gunfire or pissed off wizard would either be a viable option.

Pissed off wizard, less so, in the current dark days.

Things were coming to Chicago, to his city, and John Marcone was not amused.

He was even less entertained by the muffled noises coming from his supposedly empty office. A glance at Hendricks asked the unspoken question that was answered with a shake of the head. No one had entered this floor, no one had broken past security.

No one should be in his office.

But the faint noise disagreed. He didn’t even need to gesture to have Gard taking the lead, she moved past him with Hendricks just behind. Her gestures at the entryway seemed to be inconclusive and she opened the door to move inside.

Only to immediately stop, dropping to one knee as she raised her fist across her chest. Hendricks had actually shown an instant of startle through his deep well of calm at her actions. John, being no fainting damsel, moved forward.

Marcone knew he was grinding his teeth even as he approached. There was a man sitting at his desk, swiveling back and forth in the chair like an impatient child. The grey suit and overcoat were clearly high-priced, not that John was one to track designers. The green scarf neatly tied and tucked in to frame long black hair and a sharply angled face that seemed somehow familiar. But all the unknown man’s attention was on the couch to the side of the room.

A couch on which, by the faint up and down movement of his chest and lax features, Harry Dresden was sleeping.

But Harry Dresden was dead.

John’s money green eyes met a sharp emerald gaze as the man stood from behind the desk. He stepped to the side of the desk, his faint smile not exactly easing the tension in the room. “I must really insist you don’t, Mr. Hendricks. Harry is quite exhausted and shooting at me would make such a racket.”

Marcone glanced to the side to see his bodyguard seemingly trying to bring his sidearm to bear, even as his arm moved against his straining muscles. There was no movement from the unknown to betray the feat of magic, but the intent gaze was steady on Hendricks.

“I have a schedule to keep to, Mr…” John’s attempt was ignored as the man just glanced at his employees.

“Ms. Gard, yes?”

She raised her head in answer, still not speaking, but didn’t meet his gaze. Marcone hadn’t thought her subject to the soulgaze restriction, having not sought to avoid one with him… and he had attempted it after the success with Dresden early on.

“Escort Mr. Hendricks from the room. I desire a private conversation with the Baron.”

She stood, unquestioning, and took the bodyguard’s arm. He shot a look full of questioning and outrage but she just shook her head and then nodded to Marcone before stepping them both back out of the office and closing the door.

“May I presume then that you are with Monoc Securities?”

“If you wish,” his unexpected guest answered, walking across the office to look down on Harry’s face. “I would have been quite displeased to find that the assassin had been of your employ.”

John kept silent, finding it best in situations where he really didn’t have all the information necessary.

The man turned, his smile actually easing from small and threatening into some semblance of pleased and paternal. “Harry would have been quite cross with me if I had to kill you. Though I don’t believe he would understand why. It would have been quite necessary, of course,” the man admitted in a confiding tone, “he would have been quite dead without my interference in the matter.”

Marcone forced his jaw to unclench, relaxing the aching muscles. “Dresden likes to take care of things himself.”

“Hmmm, yes, gets that from his mother. Rather lacking in the sense of when to delegate matters, unfortunately. But I do prattle on, when all I’ve come for is to bring you a gift.”

John’s glance immediately switched to the sleeping Dresden.

“Not quite,” his guest rebutted. Then, with a sharp gesture, there was another person in the office. This one was clearly the worse for the wear, trussed rather like a hog and filthy with both gore and dirt.

The moan, however, indicated he was still alive.

“I had considered Harry’s sensibilities and turning the young man over to the authorities. But their resolution to the matter would have been so dull. I trust you will handle this in an… entertaining… fashion?”

John gaze flicked to the man on his floor. “His crime?” he requested calmly.

“The murder of Harry Dresden,” was the cold answer. Then, almost flippantly, the man asked, “Shall I repeat it three times so that you may trust its veracity?” with an aura of amusement.

John met his stare with steady nerves. “Murder is normally permanent.”

“Since when has anything about Harry Dresden been normal?”

With a nod of acknowledgement, John looked from the man on the floor to Harry sleeping on his couch. “Who, exactly, are you to him?”

The man smiled, his lips curving deeply into the expression with an aura of trouble. “Malcolm Dresden,” he answered, his hands moving into a gesture as he vanished with a residue of green smoke that quickly faded.

John stood there for a moment longer, contemplative, then crossed to the door. Gard had information she had clearly not shared with him and that was simply unacceptable.


End file.
